The kids are back in school! Of course this means all over the metro moms are donning those yoga pants and heading to Whole Foods to shop in peace and quiet. Or, to sit on the couch and catch up on three months-worth of tv shows in your pajamas. Whatever your pleasure, it is that blissful time of year when children have a set schedule and all’s right with the world. Never mind that the kids are attending sub-par schools in a broke-ass state, at least they’re out of the house right? Since this is the first weekend of the school year, here are a few things you might want to check out, with or without the kids.
Like most Americans, I’ve experienced a wide range of childhood traumas that helped transform me into the flawed, chemically dependent, semi-functioning adult human that I am today. One of those was early and excessive exposure to my dad’s terrifying ventriloquist dummy, Mr. Freddy.
Here’s the photographic evidence:
Yep. That’s not a set photo from a Stephen King movie or a Polaroid from a serial killer’s scrapbook. That’s a real photo of me, my dad and Mr. Freddy in 1978. It makes me nauseous just looking it. Seriously, imagine not doing your chores and then being told Mr. Freddy’s going to come out of the box to sing to you? It helps explain things, doesn’t it?
Although I now have occasional nightmares about being chased through the streets of Bricktown by evil red-haired dummies, I must say that I’m very proud of local ventriloquist Darci Lynne Farmer. We first learned about Darci when KFOR featured her in a 2016 segment. Now she’s reached the big time and made the semifinals of America’s Got Talent – one of the defining shows of today’s American idiocracy.
Here’s a clip of Darci’s last performance with her pal Oscar:
Personal childhood fears and phobias aside, that’s pretty cool. There’s not a lot of good news coming out of Oklahoma these days, so it’s good to see Darci make it to the big time. She (or Oscar) is going to make a great governor someday.
Hope you packed your SPF 1,000,000 sunscreen because it looks like this might be the hottest summer on record since, at the very least, 1945. With blustering blowhards who carry nuclear launch codes in their front jacket pocket engaging in worldwide pissing contests, let’s be pessimistically honest: chances are we’re all going to be immolated in a blinding ball of atomic fury within the next few weeks.
Say goodbye to your loved ones while you can and get down to that faulty storm shelter under the house, loaded with enough Jim Bakker Fiesta Food Buckets to ride out the wave of mutilation as your skin sloughs off and you cough your lungs out in a fit of massive radiation poisoning that might as well be the home version of The Day After, where everyone’s a winner!
When that moment does come, however, and the electro-magnetic pulse seals those sliding doors, turning wherever you are into a living tomb and the blinding flash of Hellfire resulting in a sad fact and even sadder fate that you might have to choose between banding with survivors or going rogue and eating them. After much deliberation without hibernation, here’s five Metro areas where I feel we might have the best chance for post-nuke survival, common morals be damned. ¡Cómpralo ya!
It’s utterly baffling that we’re living in the post-post-post-modern future of 2017 and somehow, Nazis are dominating our national conversation. On Friday, a plague of khaki-clad white nationalist scum descended on Charlottesville, VA with Polynesian tiki torches they bought from Home Depot. We all know what happened on Saturday, when people marching with swastika flags and weaponry clashed with counter-protesters that didn’t take too kindly to racist bigots trying to take back their power, leading to a death and several savage beatings.
Obviously, white nationalism is the huge topic right now, and many states have been making the wise decision to remove monuments to the Confederacy. The far right will cry, “It’s heritage, not hate!” What is that heritage? A war fought over slavery. The far right will then say, “The Civil War was fought over state’s rights.” Sure, primarily the right to own human beings. Apparently, America has monuments to its ugly racist history for the same reason that Germany has all those famous statues of Adolf Hitler everywhere, right?
And although Oklahoma wasn’t even an actual state during the Civil War, there are still several monuments around the state memorializing the soldiers who died defending the rights of people to own African-Americans as property. It’s important to remember this history, which is why it’s all in books and museums. Marble slabs and plaques that commemorate and glamorize those who fought on the wrong side of history are unnecessary now. Here are 5 of them that no one should shed a tear about should they come down:
A month or two ago, we told you about local rapper Barbie Doll. She’s the self-proclaimed “self-made millionaire” Westmoore grad who jet-sets across the country shooting fancy music videos where she flashes cash, touches hair, and test drives certified pre-owned cars that she found at Car Max.
Last week, Barbie Doll released a new video where she takes over Dallas. Because she repeats the phrase about two-thousand times, I think it’s called “I’m a doll.” It’s already been viewed a few million times on Facebook. Check it out:
You know what, let’s give Barbie Doll some credit. Her music videos may induce gigantic eye rolls, and she’s easy to laugh at, but at least she’s pursuing her dreams. Not many people can say that. Plus, whether you think she has talent or not, she’s at least caught the eye of someone with a decent camera and lots of frequent flyer miles.
Barbie Doll’s new-found internet fame has evidently caught the attention of the OKCs metro rap community. Some of them are not happy.
Last week, I was forwarded a video by a Midwest City rapper named “Phantom Classic.” She’s part of Mid Dub Records roster, which is based out of my old stomping grounds in Midwest City. Although I don’t know if Phantom Classic is a MWC alum, I’m going to roll with it because I desperately want to help ignite OKC’s first ever suburban rap war.
